The Wrath of Hawk (or rather Hank)
by Defender of the Dogma
Summary: I figured that a kid, Dove (Don) would get beat up a lot, and Hawk (Hank) would beat up the guys who beat up his brother. A fluffy brotherly love fic. It's better than it sounds, and is actually a really good story. Protective Hank for the win! Stubborn Don for the bonus!


**So, what do you think? Should I continue? Should I make a sequel? If so, what are your suggestions? How can I make this one better? How was it already good? I check my mail pretty much every day, so your reviews are all read almost as soon as you send them.**

 **Also** **, no one has commented yet. Be the first! I'm working on getting comments on all my stories, and this one is fair game! Limited time offer, and it doesn't count if you just put "a" or something. Or if you do flames. It must be an actual review. I will not post your name unless asked. Compliments = good, Constructive criticism = good. Be the first to review!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. (Not Hawk & Dove, not DC; nothing.)**

Hank groaned as a certain blond haired idiotically pacifistic (in Hank's opinion) little brother walked in the door with a black eye, bloody nose, and an assortment of injuries. Hank also noticed that there was an aggravating lack of injuries on his knuckles, which probably meant that the kid had just taken the beating again. Yes, the kid. So what if Hank was only 10? Don was 7, which meant Hank had the right to call him a kid. And now said kid was limping off to the bathroom, with his older brother trailing behind him, picking up some washcloths. He knew Don would be waiting for him when he got there. It wasn't like this was the first time this had happened. It happened way too often, actually, and Hank was getting pretty mad. He walked in, and soaked the washcloth, then turned to Don, who was sitting forlornly on the toilet cover, head hung, looking defeated for all the world. It was things like this that infuriated Hank, seeing his brother so beaten. Why wouldn't he fight back?

"Alright, who am I beating up this time?" He asked in a gruff but caring voice to those who knew him.

"You don't have to beat them up. They'll stop."

"Haven't yet."

"They will. They have to. Hank, why would they hurt me?" Hank didn't meet his brother's eyes. The truth was the kid was a social misfit. He was scrawny, and had weird views that he wouldn't give up for the world. He was more mature than most kids his age, and smarter too. Not prodigy level or anything, but certainly enough to qualify as a teacher's pet. And the kid just couldn't understand why not everyone thought the way he did.

"You're just special, Don. They don't understand you."

"So they hate me." Don whimpered sadly. Arrggh, he was only in 3erd grade! He shouldn't have to deal with this!

"They're just stupid, Don. Don't let them get to you."

"But I want them to like me. I'm I bad? Is that why no one likes me?" Ohhh, whoever did this to Don was getting smooshed up into a little pancake, that was for sure.

"NO. I told you already, they're just stupid. There's nothing wrong with you. Now I'll say it again. Who am I beating up this time."

"I won't tell. I don't want you to hurt them."

"They deserve it, they hurt you!"

"That doesn't make it right." And why can't Don just stop being so grown - up for two seconds and tell him what's wong?

"Look, if they keep hurting you, maybe they'll keep thinking they can hurt people, and hurt someone else." Don narrowed his eyes at this. That was true… and he didn't want to hurt anyone…

"It was Jackie and his pals." Them again? Hank would have thought Jackie had learned his lesson last time. Apparently not. The kid was a spoiled brat, and seemed to have the idea that he could do whatever he wanted, as Hank had gotten in trouble for beating him up last time Jackie and his gang had picked on Don. Hank sighed. Looks like little Jackie was getting another visit.

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Don was walking home from school. It hadn't been long since school let out, and he was wondering how far he'd get this time before he was jumped. He felt himself being spun around and slammed into a wall. His backpack took the brunt of the impact. He found himself staring at the black eye, bruised face, and broken nose of Jackie Powell.

"You had better call off that sick brother of yours, Hall." Jackie growled. Don didn't say anything.

"I mean it wimp. Next time he comes over here, I'm bringing my brother over, and he's even bigger than yours!" Don's eyes widened. He couldn't let Hank be hurt, he couldn't! Jackie shoved him deeper into the wall. "Understand?" Don nodded vigorously. "Good." Jackie's fist drew back, and Don steeled himself for his daily beating.

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Don slunk into the house, knowing he'd have to face Hank sooner or later, but aiming for later. Far later.

"Don is that you?"

Or not.

"Yes." Hank walked in, and clenched his fists. He walked over, and started to say something, but Don cut him off.

"You can't go after him Hank, he said he'd bring his older brother and he will, I know he will, and I've seen him! Hank he'll beat you up, there's nothing you can do!" Hank stared. He took in his little brother's beaten form, the blood, the dried tears. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm going."

"No! If you do, he'll just send his brother after you! You have to know you can't beat him!" Hank shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe not. But see, if I keep coming back, this 'older brother' is going to get really tired of beating me up, and will tell Jackie to stop. Problem solved." Hank grinned, and Don stared in horror.

"No, please! I don't want you to get hurt! I'll…" Hank interrupted before Don could try to bribe his older brother into staying safe.

"Don't even bother. I'm going and you can't stop me. Now let's get you cleaned up."

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Don tried not to cry as he helped patch up his brother, who had been as good as his word, and went right after Jackie. Who had indeed sicced his brother on Hank. Don had never been hurt as bad as this. Ever.

"Why do you have to do things like this, Hank?" He begged. "Why can't you just leave things alone? You don't have to get hurt."

"You're my brother. And someone has to protect you, seeing as you don't do it yourself."

"But… he hurt you."

"He hurt you too. And no one messes with my brother."

"Hank, what if he doesn't stop?"

"Then I'll drink my milk like a good little boy and whip him sometime. Since I actually fight back unlike some people I know."

"Hank…"

"He'll get tired soon enough. Trust me."

-One week later-

"Jackie, you got to stop picking on this Don kid."

"Why? You're still beating up his little bodyguard, aren't ya big brother?"

"Yeah, but I have to come over here every day. He doesn't stop. It's messing with my after school time. Stop picking on the kid. Or else."

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"Wow. I can't believe he stopped. I can't believe you stopped him." Don looked up adoringly at his big brother, who swelled with pride at the look he was getting.

"Well… I told you he would stop."

"Yeah, but… you were so brave! You didn't have to get beat up for me, you know." Hank shrugged.

"Meh. I could take it. Anyway, you may be a shrimp, but you're my shrimp. I'm the only one who gets to mess with you." Hank ruffled Don's hair, and his little brother grinned right back up at him. "Now, what say we go get ice cream or something. You're paying." Hank had all the money of a rock.

"I should have known there'd be a catch. But I guess I can manage. But you can't get anything over 5 dollars."

"Aw, you're no fun."

"No, I'm just smart."

"Whimp."

"Neanderthal."


End file.
